


Nothing I Can't Handle

by KenzieMa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Claustrophobia, Denial, Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, abuse recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KenzieMa/pseuds/KenzieMa
Summary: Harry doesn't think there's anything to be said about his upbringing, Hermione disagrees.





	Nothing I Can't Handle

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, I had to write a thing for a fiction writing class and I'm HP trash, so here we are. Hopefully, my professor has nothing against fanfiction!

“Claustrophobia isn’t something to be ashamed of, Harry! You know that you can talk to Ron and me about anything!” Hermione’s earnest comment caught Harry off guard as it was the first thing she said to him upon arriving at his flat early one Saturday morning. He quickly went from surprised to defensive as his brain tried to pinpoint what could have brought this on. 

“I’m not sure what you mean, Hermione,” Harry said briskly. “Let’s have some tea and you can tell me about your new position at the Ministry.” He remembered now. Earlier that week he and Ron had been playing with Harry’s godson, Teddy. Harry hadn’t thought much of choosing the broom cupboard as a hiding place until he found himself inexplicable hyperventilating, prone on the floor until Ron found him fifteen minutes later. He should have known Ron would talk to his fiance about it; he shared just about everything with Hermione, not all that different from their school days.

“Harry James Potter, you know exactly what I’m talking about!” Hermione’s chastizing tone only made Harry think how foolish he had been to assume Hermione would let something like this go without a bit of a fight. “After the war, I told you that you should take up Kingsley’s suggestion of seeing a mind healer.” She paused a moment, her voice softening slightly, “You did go, didn’t you? You told me you had…” Harry couldn’t help the offended scoff that escaped him. 

“You think I’d lie to you about that? Of course I went. I could hardly sleep those first few weeks! You’d know if I hadn’t!” Hermione seemed to deflate at Harry’s insistence. He was right, of course. She would have known by the bags under his eyes if he had been lying to her about attending those sessions. 

“I just don’t understand, Harry, this doesn’t seem like something you could have kept hidden from us… If it isn’t from the war then…” Harry flinched bodily as he saw her brilliant mind make the correct connections. 

He knew that if she asked him outright about his relatives that he couldn’t lie to her. But he also didn’t like to confront his upbringing’s continued influence over him if he could help it. It wasn’t as if it affected him that heavily. What had happened the week before was a rare accident that he had brought upon himself by not thinking about his actions. So what if he didn’t deal with tight spaces well? He wasn’t regularly crawling around in closets in his adult life. He would just be more careful in the future. This wasn’t like dealing with the aftermath of the war. A stupid fear from his childhood had nothing on overcoming the grief he felt on Victory Day. Thinking about it, he had no idea why Hermione was making such a big deal about it. 

“It really is nothing, Hermione. I just don’t do well in small enclosed spaces. Nothing to go running to the mind healer about.” The look Hermione gave him in response almost made him second guess himself but didn’t. “Really, ‘mione, I’m fine. So what if my relatives kept me in the boot cupboard? That’s nothing compared to being tortured by the Dark Lord, I can’t see why you’re so concerned.” The look  _ that  _ brought on made Harry immediately want to take it back. 

“You not seeing a problem with being raised in a  _ boot cupboard _ is the issue here Harry! Just because you’ve handled worse things doesn't make this thing any better!” Hermione all but shouted at him before more calmly adding, “The way your relatives treated you deserves just as much concern as what we dealt with after the war.” She looked really sad all of a sudden. “Will you go talk to your mind healer about this if I make you another appointment?” 

Harry really wanted to say no, to dismiss her claims are ridiculous once again, but he knew better than to try something like that on his best friend, the Brightest Witch of their Age. Resigned, he agreed. “If you really think it’s necessary, I’ll go, but only because you think it’s so important that I do.” The relief in Hermione’s eyes made Harry consider once again that perhaps Hermione was more right than he could hope she would be. 

**Author's Note:**

> By far the shortest fic I've ever written, but not my worst work. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
